


Shred Shot

by hexterah



Category: SSX Tricky
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-01-28
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:30:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5843404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexterah/pseuds/hexterah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Snowstormer's coming up quick and everyone's waiting to see who will qualify. And then who will win?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shred Shot

**Author's Note:**

> I started this story a long, long time ago and it was supposed to have a number of chapters. The beginning of the first is in a folder on my computer but it was never finished. The only finished part was this introduction. I really wish I could remember where I was gonna go with it. This actually takes place during and post-SSX On Tour but only Tricky had a section and I figure the characters fit Tricky too anyways. ;)
> 
> Started: 10/08/2005

The hills were covered in a fresh crystalline layer of snow. Undisturbed, untouched -- it looked amazing right after it fell; the wind blowing trails across the surface. They were all immune to the cold now, some even venturing outside with no jackets anymore. They were like reptiles snaking and sliding through trails, the low temperatures not chilling them one bit.

Viggo Rolig took a drag off of his freshly lit cigarette, his narrow eyes drifting across the slope of the mountain in front of him. He sat on the edge of the deck that connected to the the lodge behind him, his feet dangling off of the side, heels smacking the wood beams -- not too hard though. His boots cost more than that whole lodge, dammit. They were designer, it was the only way for Viggo to shop. The surface under him shook with the bass of the music inside and that was when he realized how much he had missed this circuit. The people. The events. And the parties. 

He had been gone for a little over a year back to Sweden, where he competed there in an attempt to gain a bigger fanbase and possibly a new sponsor or two. When he returned to the circuit here, he was welcomed by many familiar faces along with a good set of new ones.

Speaking of new faces, one had just been thrown through the glass paneling of the west wall of the lodge, onto the deck, landing about seven yards away from Viggo. The body hit the deck, Viggo didn't even flinch. He casually looked over and saw one of this season's newcomers, Sid, sprawled out on his back in a pile of glass, cursing in his odd accent. 

He could feel the bass in his body now, matching with the music that hit his ears. It had been contained by the lodge walls, but now the music flooded out into the night through the broken glass, the beat causing Viggo's head to bounce slightly as he watched the scene unfold on the deck behind him.

Nate Logan stepped out of the hole in the glass he had used Sid's body to create, boots slamming hard on the wood. Trucker cap pulled over his face, Nate slid his gloved fingers across the brim and tilted his chin upwards as he approached the self-titled supposed superstar. Sid was one of those guys other snowboarders and fans either loved or hated.

Nate hated him.

Viggo eyed Nate, squinting through the smoke he had just blown from his mouth. They had both been newcomers at the same time. Viggo remembered Nate as a brash man, usually clad in a cowboy hat and a sheepskin jacket -- bald, a little bit of stubble. Much different from the Nate across the deck. Shaggy brown hair, torn sweater, dirty camo pants. Viggo had heard rumors of Nate living out in the woods for awhile, boarding where ever and whenever, catching his own meals, sleeping out under the stars in the freezing cold.

Keeping the cigarette between his lips, Viggo leaned back resting his hands behind him. He never would've guessed Nate to be the type to go and do a thing like that, but then again, Viggo had been gone for awhile. And Nate still seemed pretty much like the Nate he knew, the few times he had spoken to him since he'd been back from Sweden.

He heard Nate's voice, but couldn't really make out what he was saying over the music -- aside from a loud "something-something-FUCKING-YOUR-MOM-something"... Viggo tilted his head slightly, his scruffy pale blonde hair meshing with the fake fur lining of the hood on his jacket. He glanced back to the lodge, where a crowd has begun to gather at the gaping hole in the glass. They had stopped their dancing, their drinking, their partying --- just to watch the argument between Nate and Sid, who was now on his feet and stepping to meet Nate, their faces inches apart.

Rolig was about to enjoy a possibly amusing fistfight when he heard yelling and the music come to an abrupt halt.

"Ski patrol!" A voice called from inside the lodge, using the nickname the boarders had given the mountain cops.

Viggo's stomach sank. There were so many violations those bastards could call on them right now. Underage drinkers inside, no doubt. Too many people inside was a fire hazard. Broken glass could be considered vandalizing. Music was disturbing the peace.

_Yeah, like all the people on this mountain that it could disturb aren't inside, assholes..._

Snickering, Viggo jumped up, dropped his cigarette off the deck into the snow and spun around, grabbing his snowboard. He was relieved that he had brought it out with him out on the deck. Everyone else's was probably still shoved back in the main closet of the lodge.

"Nate! Back here!" 

Viggo heard a voice, a heavy British accent, and shot a glance over his shoulder. Moby. His dark skin and long dreadlocks always gave him away in the sea of white during a race. Oh, and his extremely loud taunts. Viggo felt his lips upturn. Moby had always been one of his favorites, and not just cause he was one of the only other Europeans.

Moby tossed Nate's board to him as he bolted out of the lodge at a run, his own board in hand. He leapt up on the railing and jumped off the fairly high deck, throwing his own board under him. He was off, with a receding and triumphant whoop of laughter. Nate threw a sneer in Sid's direction and pushed past him, following Moby's easy way out.

It was what many of the people in the lodge were doing, grabbing their boards and either railing off the deck or pushing at a full on run out the front door below the deck and taking off as fast as they could on their boards, once they hit the snow. It was a little more difficult for the people with skis -- but Viggo wasn't sticking around to find out how their story ended.

Taking his board in his left hand, he grabbed the rail and pushed himself over it, keeping his feet on the edge of the deck and his back to the wood as he adjusted his coat. Peering up the hill, he saw the pricks skiing down towards the lodge and jumping off the deck, he landed on his board and slid away as fast as possible.

Just another night on the mountain.


End file.
